After being stared at by Sheng Qixiao and drinking the sour and bitter medicine for several days, Shen Que’s complexion visibly improved, finally no longer as pale as the previous two days. Thus, he also had the spirit to start bargaining, wanting to reduce the frequency of drinking medicine from three times a day to twice a day.
He thought Sheng Qixiao would directly refuse, and Shen Que had even prepared the wording to persuade him, but unexpectedly, Sheng Qixiao directly nodded.
“But there’s a condition.”
Shen Que raised an eyebrow, “What condition?”
Sheng Qixiao lowered his gaze to look at him, his face full of hesitation. “Nevermind, I don’t think you’ll agree.”
“Tell me first.”
“I want you to teach me how to write Chinese characters.”
“Just this.” Shen Que breathed a sigh of relief, almost laughed out loud, and immediately agreed as if afraid Sheng Qixiao would change his mind. Could he really not tell which was more unbearable; teaching Sheng Qixiao to write or continuing to take his medicine? The two weren’t even comparable.
“Good.” Sheng Qixiao’s tone immediately changed, no longer having the earlier cautiousness and even the deliberate pretense of struggle in his expression instantly vanished. Shen Que secretly thought that it was not good, and an ominous premonition rose in his heart.
As expected, Sheng Qixiao seized the wheelchair’s armrest, deftly pivoted it around, and pushed Shen Que toward the table. Paper and brush with two large characters written crookedly at the top of the snow-white paper—”Self-Reflection” were already prepared on the table.
“What do you mean?” Shen Que’s face instantly darkened.
Sheng Qixiao put the brush into Shen Que’s hand and guided him to hold it properly. “I want to learn these two characters. You write them two hundred times first, for me to copy later.”
“I won’t write!” By this time, how could Shen Que not know what he was up to? He forcefully pulled his hand out of Sheng Qixiao’s grasp, almost throwing the brush away.
“Then drink the medicine.”
Sheng Qixiao did not insist either. The bowl of medicine was pushed before Shen Que; the dark liquid inside rippled faintly, clearly mirroring the instant stiffness that overtook his expression.
After two seconds of silence, Shen Que slapped the brush on the table. Only then did he realize, why should he listen to him?
“I won’t write and I won’t drink either.” His attitude was quite firm.
“Alright.” Sheng Qixiao sighed faintly, “The fog should clear up in two more days. Last time Ke Di said he was still worried about my safety, so he decided to thoroughly investigate and catch the person who poisoned the porridge.”
“……” Shen Que curled his fingers, silently picking the brush back up. “They’ve been patrolling for several days already, didn’t they fail to catch anyone?”
“En.” Sheng Qixiao nodded in thought, his finger resting on the table as he gave it two light taps. “In the entire stockade, only my house hasn’t been searched yet, so Ke Di said…”
“Alright, don’t say anymore.”
Shen Que made a shushing gesture, smoothed the paper flat, and poked the paper with the brush. “Don’t bother me while I practice my calligraphy.”
Sheng Qixiao raised an eyebrow as he watched him start writing, and secretly curled the corner of his mouth before quickly suppressing it. He needed to hold some leverage to keep this person obedient.
By the time Sheng Qixiao returned to the small building with an armful of oddly shaped materials, Shen Que was nearly done writing.
The page was crammed with wildly scrawled characters; at first there had been some care given to spacing, but toward the end it devolved into utter disorder.
Shen Que casually tossed those pieces of paper to Sheng Qixiao. “Go check them.”
Sheng Qixiao took them and indeed looked closely, scanning them one by one with focused attention, seemingly tallying the count silently in his mind.
“What is this?” Sheng Qixiao pointed to a few obviously different characters highlighted within the page of “Self-Reflection.”
Shen Que rested his elbow on the armrest with his palm supporting his cheek while replying lazily without even looking, “I’m complimenting you.”
“How do you compliment me?”
Shen Que sat upright, pointed to the words that read “Sheng Qixiao is a big idiot,” and read them out slowly, word for word, his expression and tone utterly unchanged: “Sheng Qixiao is a big beauty.”
“Is that so?” Sheng Qixiao showed no reaction, drew out that paper, and pressed it under his hand. He didn’t bother to pursue the truth but instead picked up another blank sheet of paper and pushed it toward Shen Que. “Could you write my name again? I want to learn.”
Shen Que had been secretly observing Sheng Qixiao out of the corner of his eye. Seeing that he hadn’t even changed his expression, he knew Sheng Qixiao hadn’t believed him. “Don’t bite off more than you can chew. You copy those two characters two thousand times in various fonts first. Study hard.”
Sheng Qixiao made no move and leaned down to meet Shen Que’s gaze, his eyes full of hope and pleading. “I want to watch you write my name.”
Shen Que felt slightly uneasy under that gaze. With a resigned air, he drew the white paper closer and carefully wrote Sheng Qixiao’s name. The strokes flowed smoothly; strong yet refined, each line carrying a distinct, unmistakable personal style.
Sheng Qixiao’s eyes curved into a smile. “Thank you, I will practice diligently.”
Shen Que turned his head away, not looking at him. If Sheng Qixiao could leave E’yun Mountain, he would definitely send him to learn Sichuan Opera face-changing skill; he was too talented.
Sheng Qixiao took the paper and brush Shen Que had used back to his own room. When he returned, he laid out all the materials from the basket he had brought back, and a plain white mask mold was placed in front of Shen Que.
“What is this for?”
“To make a mask for yourself. You can paint any design you like onto it.”
Sheng Qixiao pulled up a chair and sat next to Shen Que, neatly listing all the different paints and other materials.
“In a few days, when the fog clears, many people will come to the stockade. It will be useful then.”
Shen Que was startled. “Why? Where are they coming from?”
“From the Outer Stockade Village.” Sheng Qixiao caressed the surface of the mask with his fingertip. To facilitate painting, it hadn’t been polished especially smooth, still retaining some of the material’s original texture.
“There used to be many more people in the stockade than there are now. Years ago, some tribesmen yearned for life in the outside world and were unwilling to continue living deep in the mountains, so they voluntarily left the stockade and integrated into the outside world. The stockade was thus divided into Inner and Outer Stockades. The people of the Outer Stockade only returned on fixed days each year to pay homage to their ancestors and pray for the protection of the spirits of nature. Over time, they regarded this period as a festival for the tribe, naming it the ‘Moon Gazing Festival’.”
“‘Moon Gazing Festival.'” Shen Que stared at the mask, his mind becoming active. “So where do they come from?”
“It will be very lively then, and I want you to attend too. You will also receive blessings.” Sheng Qixiao handed the mask to Shen Que, deliberately ignoring his question, and simultaneously threw out bait. “Weren’t you curious about the temple before? Only during the festival each year can we go to the temple.”
“I’ll attend.” Shen Que lowered his eyes, rapidly processing the information in his mind.
The outside world clearly spread that E’yun Mountain was a place of no return; once you entered, there was no coming out. Even if the rumors were somewhat exaggerated, the people living beyond E’yun Mountain still avoided it as though it were a forbidden land. He figured there must be another path for them to communicate with each other without anyone knowing, and this method must be quite concealed; otherwise, how could it escape the notice of the world?
With more people around, if something went missing, no one would immediately suspect their group, and the chances of slipping away amid the confusion would be much higher than they were now.
Shen Que was engrossed in his calculations, not even noticing when Sheng Qixiao came close, only subconsciously holding the rim of the porcelain bowl when it was brought to his lips while cooperating and swallowing all the liquid inside.
The bottom of the bowl struck the table with a dull thud, and the bitter taste immediately flooded his mouth. Staring at the empty bowl, Shen Que only belatedly realized what he had just drunk…
“You!” Shen Que lifted his eyelids and glared at him, his eyes burning with fire. However, remembering that he wanted to glean more information from him right now, he forcibly suppressed his anger.
He had adjusted his strategy now. Previously, he wanted to constantly act flawlessly to fool Sheng Qixiao, but now it seemed the challenge was too great. While he was certain that Sheng Qixiao wouldn’t harm him and could even selectively trust him, yet through their interactions, Sheng Qixiao had also learned how to subtly manipulate and pressure him, knowing exactly when to act and what to say; leaving Shen Que infuriated, yet completely unable to resist.
In this regard, Sheng Qixiao could be called a prodigy who learned without a teacher.
Sheng Qixiao knew without looking that Shen Que was secretly angry and cursing him again. As usual, his face showed not an ounce of guilt or shiftiness for having done something bad. His tone remained steady, even slightly innocent, “I’m afraid you were thirsty.”
“…You are so considerate.” Shen Que took a deep breath to suppress the little flame in his heart while maintaining an excellent outward composure. “Will many people come every year?”
“No. Only this year, everyone will come,” Sheng Qixiao’s tone carried a hint of a smile, “because a very grand ceremony will be held this year.”
“What ceremony?”
Sheng Qixiao looked at Shen Que, who seemed like a curious child, and shook his head. “A secret. You will know later.”
“Then there are too many things I’ll know later.” Shen Que pouted but didn’t pursue it further. He knew that anything Sheng Qixiao hadn’t meant to disclose from the start would remain out of reach no matter how much he pressed.
Knowing the mask was for use that day, Shen Que inevitably became a bit invested and unconsciously started taking it seriously, diligently applying paint and occasionally sticking other materials onto it to create a design that only he himself could understand.
Sheng Qixiao stood guard beside him, keeping watch, and also took out a piece of indigo rectangular cloth from the basket, beginning to embroider patterns on it.
Shen Que openly sneaked a few glances. The cloth vaguely showed the outline of two fluttering butterflies surrounded by a whole expanse of talisman-like patterns. The gold thread on the dark cloth emitted a rich, sprinkled-gold-like sheen.
“What are you embroidering this for?” Shen Que held the already mostly finished mask in his hand. He was never a patient person and, having finished his own task, wanted to disturb others.
Sheng Qixiao’s eyelashes flickered; he didn’t speak but shifted his body slightly outwards. His hand movements didn’t stop either. His fingers moved deftly, and the needle and thread weaved in and out of the fabric with practiced ease, gradually forming a complete piece of exquisite embroidery.
“Why don’t you talk?”
“If I told you, you would definitely say I keep repeating the same thing.”
Shen Que was stunned for a moment, then laughed. “You’ve learned to hold a grudge?”
Shen Que’s gaze also unconsciously softened as he looked at Sheng Qixiao’s focused profile. He lowered his head and continued fiddling with the mask in his hands, but his sight occasionally drifted, involuntarily floating towards the person beside him who was earnestly embroidering butterflies.
